


As We Are

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Past Violence, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 18:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: During the long night, Prompto finally opens up to Aranea about what happened in Zegnautus Keep.





	As We Are

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ever At Your Side fanzine, a celebration of the wonderful friendships in FFXV.  


Night in Lestallum used to be a rare treat, something to anticipate. It had held a soft glow of city lights, the buzz of the end of the work day and the start of a more relaxed shift, filled with food smells and music, laughter and dancing. 

Prompto sighed and smoothed the leather palm of his glove over the concrete half wall. It was cold, as if it, too, had lost the memory of how it felt to be warmed by the rising sun come morning. He missed the old, carefree, bustling Lestallum, but he was proud of this one too. 

He peered over the edge to see the flicker of light below. Jeanne and the others had done a lot, salvaging and repairing what they could. Lestallum lit up again, even if it wasn't quite the same. The noisy hum of generators and the distant howl of daemons were the new score this city was set to, but it was still theirs, and they held it defiantly. 

The scrape of a boot behind him pulled Prompto out of his thoughts. Aranea drew next to him, folding her arms across the top of the wall. 

“Long day today.” She looked over at him with weary eyes, and he grinned ruefully. She was close enough for Prompto to see that the freckles dusting her nose and cheeks had already begun to fade. Prompto glanced at his bare forearm, assessing whether his own were already doing the same. 

“You said it.” Prompto’s head tipped up, still trying to pick out the stars in the endless blackness. They were gone; they had disappeared slowly as the hours of daylight shrank, and he missed them. 

A soft sigh escaped him as he pulled his chin back down to look at Aranea. “Nice work out there today.” The two of them had spent hours running, slashing, bailing each other out, ducking a hissing or clawing daemon only to let out a wild laugh or yell as the other one polished it off. He was happy to fight with her—their attacks paired well, as did their personalities. Finding each other again in Hammerhead a few months ago had been a relief, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

“Thanks. You too. You really had my back.” Her voice was hoarse, and both of them were filthy and tired. Even Aranea swayed on her feet, and she was tough as nails. It did feel like it was probably late, though the consistent inky blackness of the sky was no help figuring that out. Prompto put out a hand to steady her, and she flicked a gaze down to the bar code peeking out from behind his glove. An ugly scar—one of the worst he’d gotten—intersected with it. It was mostly healed, but a jagged, shiny pink line still ripped a zigzag across pale skin. Aranea looked at it, frowned, and looked away.

She let out a long breath and followed Prompto’s gaze over the wall, out toward the city. “You ever gonna tell me what went down with that bastard Izunia? Or whoever he is?” Her eyebrows pulled together in concern, and what Prompto figured was anger on his behalf. She knew something had happened in Zegnautus Keep; you didn’t come back looking like Prompto had without something happening. She had figured out the general contours of it, but Prompto hadn’t given her any specifics. Hadn’t given _ anyone _ any specifics, really, and it had begun to eat away at him. He wondered if she could tell, and if it was why she had asked.

Prompto started talking, almost like he hadn't heard Aranea’s question. “With it being nothing but dark, it’s weird; you never really know what time it is anymore. Used to be, the sky would get lighter and darker, even at night. Now, if I can't check my phone, it's like—I can't count on myself to know how much time has passed. Five minutes can seem like forever, but hours can just fly by.”

He exhaled and looked down over the city again. They faced out over the half wall together, and Aranea shuffled close, not quite bumping him with her hip. He kept talking, not looking at her but leaning into her as she came nearer.

“Funny you should ask, because I haven’t felt like that in a long time. Time just—disappearing like that.” He went quiet again, and Aranea just stood by him, their silence companionable. They’d spent too much time in the field together to find quiet to be uncomfortable by this point.

“So, you know it was after you—after _ we_, you helped me kick a lot of asses in the snow.”

Aranea grinned and looked up at him sideways. “Yeah, I remember that part.”

“I tried to find the others but—”

“Damn. I should have stayed with you—”

Prompto held up a hand. “No. Not your fault. He was gonna do it anyway. To get at Noctis. He was just waiting, the asshole…” The last few words were under his breath, angry and muttered. A couple breaths in, then out. Prompto waited for the rushing in his ears to calm.

“You know the worst part? He can look like anyone. Did you know that?”

Aranea shook her head, green eyes round. A searching look crossed her face then, as though she was remembering something. A look of disgust, then, and she shook her head again, more briskly, as though to clear disturbing theories from it. 

“_Anyone_. I can’t tell you how many times I thought it was over before it really was. A shapeshifter? I didn’t even know that was possible. Not that I really should have been surprised by much at that point….” He picked a fingernail and kicked at the wall, then flipped to lean his back against it, casting his gaze up into the blackness. “But, you know, in a way that was his mistake too.”

Aranea just made a little questioning noise and tilted her head.

“Reminded me that anyone he tried to look like, they were—_ you _ were all out there, still. Trying to find me. Made me dig in that much harder, not let him win.” Prompto tried to grin at her but it faltered a little at the memory, and he grew more serious. “I mean it. It really got me through it. All those things you said at camp? They were true, and the more I thought about it, about everything we’d all been through together—I knew it. For a little while, I really believed that Noct hated me. Especially when I found out what—who I am. I mean, he pushed me off that train.” He laughed uncomfortably and ran a hand through his hair. 

“But he thought it was Ardyn. He was stealing faces even before all that, before the keep.” Aranea was quiet, looking at him again steadily, and he answered her unasked question. “Yeah. It was bad. Not just the faces, and their voices, but—everything. It was real bad.” He swallowed. “Not like I wasn’t used to getting hurt, by that point, right?”

She nodded.

“But, no curatives.” He let out a weak laugh. “And no one around to do that thing, you know?” He gestured, indicating Aranea’s way of delivering a dose of healing magic, via a jovial slap. She smiled slightly, still searching his face, giving him space to continue.

“The hardest part, though? Was not giving in. Ardyn really messed with my head, and if I hadn't been able to count on my friends, to know that they really cared and didn’t hate me?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to say I would have given up, but….”

“I mean you, too.” Prompto looked over at Aranea, gathering himself together again. “After, you know, all that in the snow, I counted you as a friend, too. Just another reason to hang on.” He turned to face her fully, still leaning on the cold concrete half wall.

“That means a lot, Prompto.” He nodded, grateful in that moment that she hadn’t used any of the affectionate names she had for him. Not that they weren’t great, but—it meant something that she just saw him for who he was. Not his past, not what people might have intended for him. Just Prompto. He met her eyes, and they were steady. He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it a little, laughing to himself that he wouldn’t have dared do that when they’d first met. But they’d been through a lot, separately and together, and Aranea gave him a close-lipped smile that broke into a broad grin after a few moments.

“Get in here.” She pulled him in for a rough hug, and Prompto understood why her subordinates had followed her so adoringly. He let out a long breath that was only a little unsteady and returned her firm grip with one of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Xylianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/) (an amazing writer I really admire) for the beta! Due to some version control issues, my usual note that any remaining errors are completely mine is even louder for this one. :)


End file.
